


Curly Fries for Curly Hair

by tinysoftdrinkstate



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Marquis de Lafayette, i guess, this was originally called sad fries au so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 15:52:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8378137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinysoftdrinkstate/pseuds/tinysoftdrinkstate
Summary: saltyspacerock requested: Hercules is a fast-food cashier, and at almost closing time, Lafayette comes in and orders a large curly fries. Herc gets frustrated, and Laf starts to cry, so Hercules calms him down, pays for their food, and they chat and become friends.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saltyspacerock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltyspacerock/gifts).



“Can I help you?” Hercules said automatically as he heard the door open to the fast-food joint he worked at. He truly hoped that the answer was no; it was around 6 minutes and 38 seconds to closing time, and he just wanted to go home. Having another customer was not going to make that happen faster. 

 

When he didn’t hear an answer, he looked up, mildly confused. When he did, he saw a young man, about his age, with fluffy, natural curls pulled back into a ponytail, staring at the menu without really seeing it.

 

Guessing that the stranger didn’t hear him the first time, Hercules tried again. “Excuse me, sir, can I help you?” He didn’t manage to keep the tone of annoyance out of his voice. You come in 5 minutes to closing and don’t know what you want? Ugh, some people.

 

“Uh, yes, thank you,” the stranger said, with a thick French accent. “Also, I am not a ‘sir.’”

 

“Pardon?” Hercules wasn’t sure if he heard him right. 

 

“You said sir, earlier. I am, ahem, how you say? Non-binary. Call me ‘they.’”

 

“Okay… How can I help you?” Hercules respected pronouns, but he also did not want to be having a talk about gender with a complete stranger, 5 minutes to 11:00 in a burger joint. 

 

The stranger seemed to just then remember the mood he came in, and sighed sadly before giving his order. “One large curly fries.” 

 

Hercules very literally punched their order into the cash register. “Will that be all?” He still sounded very annoyed; he still was very annoyed. There was a blanket and pillow at home with his name on it, and the only thing standing between that was an (admittedly-attractive) French stranger who didn’t know how to get to the point. 

 

“Yeah, I guess…” The stranger’s voice broke as they turned away from Hercules at the counter. Was it possible that they were… crying?

 

“Hey, are you alright?” Hercules may have been annoyed, but he was still a decent human. 

 

“I’m… I’m fine, it’s fine,” the stranger still wouldn’t look at Hercules, but it was clear at this point that they were crying.

 

“Hey, hey… What’s wrong?” Hercules nearly jumped over the counter to comfort them. Pulling off his apron, he cautiously set his hand on the stranger’s shoulder.

 

“No, really, it’s fine…”

“No, it’s clearly not,” Hercules said, his hand rubbing comforting circles on their back. “Do you want to talk?”

The stranger sighed, tears slowing. “I’ve just… It has not been a good day.”

“Yeah, I see…” He was trying to be comforting.

 

That seemed to open the floodgates. Hercules wasn’t sure exactly what was said, but it seemed to help, and by the end of it, the stranger (could they even be called that at this point? Either way, Hercules didn’t know their name) had stopped crying, and the two of them were wrapped in a tight embrace. You know, your typical weekend night: hugging a complete stranger in the middle of a fast-food place, with the clock approaching midnight. 

 

After one last tight squeeze, Hercules backed out of the hug. He hopped back over the counter, and poured a large cup of ice water. Going back to hand it to the stranger, (walking carefully this time) he commented, “Y’know, that was a very nice chat, but I never got your name, or gave you mine.”

 

“Oh! I am Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette, Marquis de Lafayette, but most of my friends call me Lafayette or Laf.” The stranger was no longer a stranger.

 

Hercules laughed. “That’s quite a mouthful! I’m Hercules. Just Hercules.”

 

“Well, bonjour, Just Hercules,” Lafayette said. “Where are you going?” He added, seeing that Hercules was, yet again, jumping back over the counter.

 

“To get your fries, duh!”

 

“No, mon amie, you don’t have to,” Laf protested. 

 

“I want to!” Seeing Lafayette’s look, Herc added, “Please? Let me. And maybe we could hang out after or something?” He said the last part so quickly he wasn’t sure if Laf had heard him.

 

Apparently they had. “Are you asking me on a, how you say, date?” Laf’s voice had a bit of a smirk to it.

 

“My, you’re blunt…” Hercules said under his breath. Looking up to face Lafayette, he said, “Yeah, maybe I am.”

 

“Well, then I accept!” 

 

In lieu of an answer, Hercules handed a large order of curly fries across the counter. When he saw Laf reach for their wallet, he protested. “No, please! I’ll pay.” 

 

“Thanks,” Laf was suddenly shy. “Can we take them to go? I have a place I would like to show you.”

 

“That sounds great!” Hercules hopped back over the counter, and, after he had closed up properly (it was way past closing time), the new couple walked out, hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! I edited, but if you have anything to say about it, don't be shy! If you want to talk, leave a comment or come over to my tumblr: tinysoftdrinkstate.tumblr.com. I will take requests for future fics on either platform, as long as I am familiar with the characters.


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